


Change your ticket home

by niallhoranbitches



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, University, University Professors AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 13:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19476544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallhoranbitches/pseuds/niallhoranbitches
Summary: Standing in the windy hall for over half an hour is not fun. Having to babysit the professor invited to give a series of lectures at Trinity College is no fun. The fact this professor will probably turn out to be some boring, old dude is no fun either.orNiall has been asigned to take care of the visiting professor and he knows he is going to hate every second of it. Except he doesn't.





	Change your ticket home

**Author's Note:**

> It's done! Despite the doubts, the lack of motivation and the fact that this fic wasn't going as smoothly as I wanted it too - it's done! It's exciting. I really liked the idea when it first formed in my mind, then hated how cumbersome it felt while I wrote it, but eventually got back to liking it, I guess. And I hope you will too (maybe except the hating part lmao).  
> As always, I want to thank my dear beta and mum **Jules** and also the **wonderful moderators** who made this incredible fest happen! For the second time!  
> Without further ado, enjoy!
> 
> (Just keep in mind that I've never been to the mentioned museum, but I fell in love with it the moment I learned about it. I relied on the few reviews, videos etc. I found online so sorry about that).

_Oh Mister Horan, you’re so open and friendly, always able to feel everybody so welcomed!_

_Oh Mister Horan, you’re one of the kindest people I know!_

_Oh Mister Horan, I think you’ll be the perfect person to greet our guest!_

_Mister Horan my ass,_ Niall thinks. It is more than obvious that the only reason he was picked to the one-man welcoming committee is because he is the youngest member of the staff and it wasn’t like he had a choice. It would be rather frowned upon if he had said no to the dean. Is he even allowed to do that? Besides, most of the higher-rank academics probably think that Niall is mostly useles, teaches a class or two every now and then, wastes precious resources on some dumb research and in general doesn’t do much anything except lounging around.

Okay, maybe they aren’t that bad and Niall is just being bitter. His point is that he couldn’t get away from this whole thing. Even if he really wanted to. Standing in the windy hall for over half an hour is not fun. Having to babysit the professor invited to give a series of lectures at Trinity College is no fun. The fact this professor will probably turn out to be some boring, old dude is no fun either.

Niall sighs as he checks his watch for what feels like the millionth time. He curses under his breath, wondering how much trouble he’d get in if he just bailed right now. Maybe he could come up with a reasonable excuse. For example that the visiting professor was a total wanker, not even bothering to be on time. 

If Niall were the dean, he would totally accept such an excuse.

The most unfair thing is that it's a bit after 6 PM and most of the classes have already ended. Only a few students are still around to witness his misery. Very briefly though, because all of them are just passing him by with smiles, greeting Niall as they leave the building. It's highly unfair. He has been on-campus for over 10 hours now and will have to spend some more to show Professor Wanker around—if he even shows up, that is. Taking all of this into consideration, Niall has the right to be whiny right now, having to stand here until he grows roots and becomes an inseparable part of the main hall. There aren’t even any chairs around. He hasn't even noticed that earlier.

Running his hand through his hair—that is surely past looking presentable, considering how many times he's messed with it - Niall tries to convince himself that maybe it won't be that bad. Maybe Professor Wanker would actually turn out to be a decent guy and maybe he has a valid reason for being so late. On the other hand, however, Niall has worked at the university long enough to learn that some professors can be a real pain in the arse. And before that he has been a student for even longer so he considers himself rather experienced in that matter. 

Niall groans. He doesn’t care anymore if somebody hears him. It’s been almost forty minutes, his knee is starting to throb slightly for standing in the chilly hall for so long, his stomach is rumbling quietly and he just really doesn't want to be here. He is suffering and his suffering deserves to be seen and acknowledged. The automatic door slides open but Niall doesn’t spare the incomer more than a quick glance. The lad is way too young to be a professor, so Niall ignores him and takes out his phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

But a minute or two passes and out of the corner of his eye Niall sees that the newcomer hasn’t moved much. He is standing there, staring at the wall next to the entrance with wide eyes. Niall can kind of understand the confusion; the man is staring at the worst possible plan ever created that is supposed to help people find their way around this building. It doesn't. With it's complicated legend, way too many unnecessary arrows and symbols and Gaelic descriptions that rarely anyone is able to read squeezed alongside the English ones, the map is completely useless. No wonder the guy looks overwhelmed.

And that—after a second of thought—is what strikes Niall as weird. Because if the guy was from around here, he would know better than to try to make sense out of that abomination of a map. Everybody had given up long ago. Giving the incomer another glance, Niall notices that he is dressed in a proper three-piece suit under a tweed coat. Maybe he's just a very classy and stylish student, Niall thinks. Some of them are just like this. Even Niall likes to wear a suit every now and then for no particular reason. But even so, Niall pockets his phone and decides to approach the man. 

“Hi,” Niall says lightly. “Can I help you?”

Startled by the noise, the newcomer jumps and turns around. His eyes are wide and slightly scared when they stop at Niall's face, as if he hadn’t noticed Niall's presence earlier. 

And if it wasn’t highly inappropriate to think such things about students, Niall would probably swoon. Because the man standing in front of him is unfairly handsome and his big, warm eyes staring right at Niall make the later feel a bit weak.

“Um—I,” the man starts, his voice a bit croaky. Niall tries not to stare too obviously, in the meantime trying to get a grip of himself. “Um, actually—” the man starts again after clearing his throat. “Actually, I’d really appreciate some help, yeah. I’ve… I was supposed to meet someone here, but I’m late and I don’t even know where I can find them? Do you know, by any chance, when I can find mister… Neil? Neil Horan?”

That is something that Niall did not expect. At all.

Trying to process the information, Niall blinks a few times. No way that the old dude Niall was waiting for somehow turned into an incredibly handsome young man, who is now nervously clutching his bag and staring at Niall with the prettiest, hopeful eyes. Somehow, Niall forgets all the suffering and complaining that he has been doing just a few minutes ago. He's not even bothered by the fact that the man standing in front of him has mispronounced his name in a way that normally makes him scream. He is too stunted to care. 

“It’s—,” Niall’s voice sounds weak and he has to clear his throat. “It’s _Niall_ Horan, actually. And yes, I am. I mean that’s me. Niall Horan,” his hand does a weird gesture towards the man standing in front of him before Niall stuffs it into his pocket. “ _You_ are Professor Zayn Malik?”

“Oh, no,” the man shakes his head with a small smile. Niall wonders whether he's more relieved or disappointed at that. But then the man adds, “Not a professor, quite far from that to be honest. But the rest is true. I’m Zayn Malik. It’s nice to meet you.”

Niall shakes the hand he is offered, finally able to compose himself and smile to Mr. Malik. Now Niall feels bad for calling him Professor Wanker in his mind.

It takes another few seconds before Niall realises that he's been staring and holding Mr. Malik's hand for way longer than socially acceptable. Blushing, he takes his hand away.

"Sorry, I just… wasn’t expecting that," Niall mumbles, scratching at his neck, trying not to look as embarrassed as he feels. "So, how do you feel about a little tour around the Trinity College, Mister Malik?"

“Oh yes, that would be great. I have a tendency to… get lost a lot,” Mr. Malik laughs a bit nervously. “And please, call me Zayn. There’s no need to be this formal, is there?”

The tour doesn’t take long, even though the building is quite spacious. Niall doesn’t see the point in showing Mr. Malik—Zayn, he corrects himself—every single classroom. Instead, he sticks to the most important places like the lecture halls, the canteen, the dean’s office, the rooms Zayn is supposed to have classes in, the machines Zayn should avoid because they have the absolutely awful coffee and the ones he should stick to. Zayn seems to really appreciate the recommendation. Eventually, Niall invites Zayn to his office. Or rather _their_ office for the few days Zayn will be staying in Dublin. At first, Niall was rather sceptical about this idea. And by sceptical he means quite furious. He didn’t fancy sharing his personal office—the smallest one in the entire building, in his opinion—with some random Professor Wanker. Now however, Niall didn’t mind it that much.

On their way back to the ground floor Niall explains to Zayn how under no circumstances should he try to use the plan of the building, making the other man laugh. At that very moment, a loud rumbling sound peals out. With a hint of dread, Niall realises that it’s coming from his own traitorous stomach.

“Sorry about that,” he says, embarrassed. “Didn’t have time for lunch today, but I managed to forget about this until now.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m so sorry I’ve taken so much of your time.”

Then, looking at Zayn’s kind smile and those unfairly beautiful eyes still shining with laughter, Niall’s brain does something quite stupid.

“Actually,” Niall hears himself say. “Do you have any plans for your first evening in Dublin?”

Slightly surprised by this question, Zayn answers with a small chuckle, “Try to get to my hotel without getting lost. But besides that no, I don’t. Why?”

“I just thought that maybe you would like to go for a ‘welcome in Dublin’ dinner with me?”

“Oh.” Zayn says, blinking. Immediately, Niall starts to regret every single word he has uttered since he’s met Zayn. Niall tries to think of a neat way to take the offer back, but then Zayn smiles at him. It’s a big, genuine smile that makes Zayn’s eyes crinkle and Niall’s knees weaker.

“Of course! That would be great, thank you.”

It takes Niall a while to decide whether inviting the visiting lecturer for dinner is appropriate or not. And whether thinking that said lecturer is the most gorgeous man on Earth is appropriate or not. There’s this tiny red warning light blinking somewhere in Niall’s brain. But eventually it disappears—or more likely Niall completely ignores it. Because it turns out that Zayn is not only the most gorgeous but also the kindest, funniest and most interesting man on Earth. The more they talk, the more Niall finds himself attracted to Zayn. And he doesn’t think about how far on the inappropriateness scale would that be. 

He doesn’t think about it during their dinner in a small restaurant, no more than 20 minute walk from the university, nor later when they both agree to change the place and go for a pint to one of Niall’s favourite pubs in the neighbourhood. They look slightly out of place there, both still wearing suits. Niall doesn’t mind it that much—especially when Zayn takes off his suit jacket and neatly rolls up his sleeves, revealing tattoos climbing up his forearms. Niall is having too much fun to be paying attention to such details as attire. And if Zayn’s bright smile, the one that makes his eyes crinkle, can be any indication, Niall doesn’t think Zayn minds it either.

When Niall finally gets home, after walking Zayn back to his hotel, it’s well after midnight. That means that normally he would be asleep for at least an hour. Surpassing his personal curfew on a weekday has never been a good idea. But Niall finds himself smiling while he brushes his teeth. Already half-asleep, he finally texts back his friend Louis, who hours ago asked “How was Professor Wanker?”.

**To: Lou  
** turns out he wasnt a wanker at all . v far from that actually . and v hot.  
_Mon, 1:27PM_

His tired brain only barely registers that admitting the last part to Louis was a very bad idea. Just as staying up so long and having those three beers was a bad idea. 

But even despite that, Niall falls asleep with a smile still clinging to his face.

The next morning, Niall’s good mood from the night before wavers slightly. His head is pounding slightly, which is ridiculous because he is not old enough to be hungover after such a small amount of alcohol. It takes him twice as much time as he usually needs to get up and the fact that he has about ten texts from Louis filled with questions and mockery does not help. Now when he thinks about it, maybe asking Zayn for dinner wasn’t that good of an idea.

This thought sticks with Niall for a bit, at least until he runs into Zayn at the university entrance hall. Because as soon as he spots Zayn, a big, probably rather idiotic smile appears on Niall’s face. But when Zayn smiles back at him like that, Niall decides that he doesn’t really care whether it is appropriate and professional of him to have a crush or not.

"I have to admit I'm happy to see that I’m not the only one running late this morning," Zayn says as they walk together to the office. 

"Oh man, you have no idea. It was only three pints and staying up slightly longer after my personal curfew but I felt half-dead in the morning. I miss the times when I was twenty and felt light and breezy after drinking a double digit the night before," Niall answers with a deep sigh. The worst part is that he's not even exaggerating.

Zayn chuckles at that.

"I drank two coffees before I even left the house. Otherwise I wouldn't have made it. I must admit I'm impressed with myself that I even heard the alarm," he says. "Getting up is hard for me in normal circumstances, not to mention getting up after a night out. I feel like I'm gonna need another cup."

"I'm proud of you then," Niall bumps his shoulder with Zayn's before he can think better of it. His cheeks turn pink and he frantically tries to find a way to change the topic. But Zayn only smiles that pretty smile of his and laughs again, so Niall doesn't bother.

"You shouldn't. I'm supposed to give a guest lecture today and make everyone impressed but instead of preparing I went out and get _slightly_ drunk yesterday. Probably everyone in this building knows how bad of an idea that is," Zayn says.

"Sorry?" Niall says, even though that going to the pub was as much Zayn's idea as his own. "In return, I can make you a very tasty cup of coffee at the office and save you from drinking the shit from the machines."

"You're an angel, Mr. Horan."

Niall pretends he's busy looking for the keys in his bag to hide from Zayn the blush that appears on his face.

***

Truth to be told, Niall is not that interested in Old English and the history of language. He did study it for a semester or two but except "it sounds quite cool", he doesn't remember much nor he's particularly keen on the idea. Irish literature was always his main focus.

And yet somehow, Niall decides to cancel two of his classes today, just so he can attend Zayn's lecture. He tries to convince himself that it's solely because Zayn has invited him on more than two occasions and besides Niall does not want to rob his students from such an opportunity as listening to a guest lecture. Of course, those are rather weak excuses because Niall remembers what was his attitude to guest lectures and canceled classes when he was a student, but he doesn't care. He feels better with himself, having a believable excuse to hand.

Eventually, after spending almost two hours at the lecture hall—which is more than the lecture itself, because when he first came in he noticed Zayn struggling with the projector—Niall has no regrets. Despite the pleasure of just looking at Zayn, Niall finds himself completely mesmerised by what he's saying. At the beginning, Zayn's voice is shaky and his hands are trembling and it is quite obvious that he is nervous. But soon enough, as he starts to talk about the history of the English language, about the everyday lives of people who used Old English and all that, he somehow calms down. It is perfectly clear how passionate he is about the topic. Just watching that is an incredible experience. And Zayn has this amazing skill of keeping people entertained. Maybe Niall is slightly biased, but he has seen how engrossed in the lecture are all the students attending so it can’t be just him.

Plus, Niall might have a thing for Zayn speaking Old English.

Some people are gathered around Zayn after the lecture, probably with some follow-up questions and Zayn takes his time to talk to everyone with a sweet smile on his face.

"Congratulations," Niall says, when he finally makes his way to the podium as the lecture hall slowly empties. "Amazing lecture. And it's coming from someone who wasn't a fan of Old English back at the university."

"I'm really happy to hear that, however I'm deeply wounded that you did not appreciate the beauty of this language," Zayn answers but there's no hurt in the way he's beaming at Niall.

"I did appreciate it! I like the sound of it but I wasn't really good at... well, learning anything about it."

Zayn laughs at that, stuffing his papers back to his bag.

“I can understand that,” he says. “Thank you again for coming and saving me from the projector before. Technology doesn’t like me for some reason.”

“No worries. And besides I don’t think people would mind, you would’ve charmed everybody with your knowledge and way of speaking anyway, with a presentation or not.”

The blush that appears on Zayn’s face is so bright that it’s clearly visible even despite his darker complexion and his stubble. He mumbles a thank you, his eyes skipping around the lecture hall but barely stopping at Niall. Niall has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling too big. He would gladly stay here longer, but he swears quietly after a glance at the watch on Zayn’s wrist. Saying a quick goodbye, Niall runs from the lecture hall, trying not to be too late for his next class.

When Niall reaches his office an hour and a half later, the door doesn’t open. The key refuses to budge and Niall curses under his breath. Before he is able to put down his bag to free his hand that is not holding the key, the door swings open to Niall’s great surprise.

“Oh.” he says, seeing Zayn. “I—I just assumed it was closed. From what you said earlier, I thought you didn’t have anything after the lecture so—”

“Yeah, I didn’t, I just—” Zayn says, looking sheepish all of sudden. He takes a step back so Niall can enter the office. Rubbing the back of his neck, he adds, “I wanted to ask you earlier but you had to run and—Do you want to grab dinner together? Or do you have some other plans?”

Staring at Zayn, Niall tries to put his bag on the nearby table. Of course he misses and the bag falls to the floor with a heavy thud. Not paying that much attention to it, Niall shakes his head.

"I totally understand if you don't want to, tho—" Zayn says, reading Niall's gesture completely wrong.

"No, no, that's not it! I mean I don't have any plans now," Niall explains quickly. "I'm just surprised you've waited for me all this time."

This time Zayn's blush is probably even brighter than the one Niall saw a few hours ago at the lecture hall. It looks very adorable on him, Niall decides. Not wanting to torture him any longer, Niall adds, "Which is very nice, thank you. And I gladly accept the invitation."

"You could give me your number," Zayn says a few minutes later, as they are leaving the university together. He's smiling at Niall, although his cheeks still look slightly redder. "You know, in case I had some other equally important question to ask."

Not having to be asked twice, Niall is grinning to himself as he types a string of numbers on Zayn's phone. Niall feels like he has unscrewed the bulb of the hypothetical red light that has been blinking in his brain the night before. And he couldn't be happier.

The rest of the week passed in a very similar manner. Every day since Zayn’s arrival on Monday, he and Niall went out for dinner after their classes or at least spent way more time that it takes to eat a meal in the university canteen. Once they actually received a stink eye from people who work there, because Niall and Zayn were the only people left and canteen was technically about to be closed for the day. If they weren’t the professors, they would have been kicked out sooner, but that didn’t change the fact that Niall never liked to be that arsehole who made people stay longer at work. So they politely apologised and went home. Or at least they tried to, but somehow Niall found himself roaming around the city centre with Zayn, taking pictures by the Dublin Castle and chilling for a while in St. Patrick’s Park.

There is only one drawback of all this, Niall thinks, walking into his office on an early Friday afternoon.

Or two, actually.

The first is that despite all the fun he had— _they_ had, Niall hopes—despite all his sympathy, admiration and maybe a bit—OK, a great deal—of attraction for Zayn, Zayn was leaving in three days. He has a flight back to London scheduled on Monday morning and Niall can’t do anything about that. Not that he wants to. He _really_ wants to do something about it, but he has no idea how and if he really _should_ . Because Zayn might want to hang with him a lot, he might laugh at his jokes and send him all those smiles, but that doesn’t have to mean that he is in any way interested on a level beyond friendly. From his own experiences Niall knows that even in academic circles—or maybe especially there—sexuality is still a taboo. There are a few acquaintances that don’t like Niall for the sole reason that he has never been worried about hiding the fact that he’s bisexual. Simply mentioning a boyfriend in a conversation, commenting assumptions about his marital status with “No, I don’t have a wife or a husband, yet” has earned him a good deal of frowns. Once Niall _dared_ to wear a rainbow flag pin he gotten from somewhere, he doesn’t even remember where. On that day he has earned so many surprised, blinding or sometimes even teary-eyed smiles from his students that Niall has worn it for the rest of the semester and he always remembers to do that around the end of summer term. It is worth the eye rolls and sideways glances he receives from others. Now that Niall thinks about it, maybe the pin might be useful to check whether Zayn would fall into the smiling or the sideway-glancing category.

The second drawback is the fact that since the day Zayn arrived and Niall made the unforgivable mistake of mentioning to Louis that he finds the visiting professor attractive, he has been mercilessly tortured by his friend. Inappropriate jokes, questions that made Niall uncomfortable and stuff like that happened every day. It only got worse when Niall was made to turn down Lou’s offer to meet, having already made plans with Zayn. Niall tried to be rational and explain to his friend—and to himself—that this is not a big deal, he’s just trying to make his stay in Dublin a good one and that it doesn’t even matter, because Zayn will be leaving soon. Those explanations, of course, went unnoticed or made Louis double his efforts to make Niall blush.

Taking everything into consideration, Niall is rather miserable. To the point where he wonders if Mr. Malik being the Professor Wanker Niall originally expected wouldn’t have make everything easier.

**From: Me  
** remember when we passed the leprechaun museum ?  
_Friday, 13:01_

**From: Zayn  
** Thank you for reminding me that i should mute my phone before class ;p i remember! sounded like a fun place, why?  
_Friday, 13:10_

**From: Me  
** just saw that there are some tickets left for tonight ? if you’d want to go i can book em ? if you don’t have other plans  
_Friday, 13:12_

**From: Zayn  
** Ofc i want to go!! :D x  
_Friday, 13:12_

**From: Me  
** cool , done ! we’ll talk about the details later , now you should probably stop texting in class ;D  
_Friday, 13:12_

**From: Zayn**  
It is solely your fault.  
_Friday, 13:14_

Niall doesn’t admit to anyone besides himself that he actually made the reservation two days ago, the same day when Zayn noticed the poster of The National Leprechaun Museum. There was no hurt in booking the two tickets, Niall could cancel the reservation at any moment. He's been there already, actually, a few years ago he took his nephew Theo to the museum and it was quite fun, even if a bit silly. The storytelling was amazing, though, so Niall figured that since Zayn said he loved folk tales of all sorts, he might enjoy it if he remembers not to take it too seriously.

They meet in front of the museum, since Zayn decides he's confident enough to take a ten minute walk from his hotel without getting lost. It's ten minutes past 8 PM when Niall finally spots Zayn, who is already waving at him with a sheepish smile. He's late, but at least he texted Niall in advance to let him know he won't make it for 8 o'clock.

"Hi, sorry again for the delay," Zayn says when he finally catches up to Niall. "I might've—taken a nap and missed the first alarm."

At first Niall doesn't really get Zayn's words. He is too busy staring at the other man, stunned. For the past few days he got used to seeing Zayn in suits or at least shirts and dress pants, so the tight black jeans, white v-neck and a black leather jacket are a novelty to him. A very pleasant novelty. There are more tattoos peeking from under the loose collar of Zayn's shirt. Niall swallows. It takes quite an effort to tear his eyes from the black ink and focus again on Zayn's face.

As if that makes anything easier, Niall thinks.

"You've been asleep?" Niall's brain eventually absorbs what has been said and Niall chuckles.

"Just napping. I just sat on the bed after I came back to the hotel and… the rest is history, as they say," Zayn laughs, although he's blushing. "Happens to me a lot, actually. You should be happy I managed to set the alarms this time, unlike on Monday."

It takes a moment for Niall to connect the dots. "Wait, so—You've been sleeping—? When I was waiting for almost an hour in the bloody hall for you? Are you fu—?"

"In my defence," Zayn interrupts raising his finger. "I was after a long flight."

Niall squints his eyes at him. He's far from being mad now, he got over all the anger quite quickly but that doesn't mean he can't pretend.

"How long? An hour?"

"Well… an hour and a half to be precise," Zayn tries to be serious, but he fails quickly. "I'd better go inside, don't wanna be late for the tour."

Niall only shakes his head, watching as Zayn disappears behind the museum door with a cheeky wave and a smile on his face. After taking a deep breath and trying to fight the horribly fond smile off his face, Niall follows him inside. Why did he think this was going to be a good idea?

Zayn is waiting for him by the ticket counter, apparently remembering that Niall is the one who made the reservation. Raising an eyebrow at him, Niall collects their tickets and hands one of them to Zayn. 

Few minutes later, they start their tour along with three other people. The first room they walk into looks just like Niall remembered it—it’s full of Leprechaun-themed art, figurines, paintings and stuff like that to show how they have been portrayed over the years and in different parts of the world. The tour guide stops her introduction and gives them a few minutes to roam around the room. It’s quite silly, Niall must admit. And Zayn probably thinks the same, but that doesn’t break his enthusiasm in the tiniest bit. When they approach the showcase with American cereal _Lucky Charms_ , Zayn gasps dramatically.

“You match!” he says and when Niall sends him a confused look, he tugs at the sleeve of Niall’s green, suede jacket. 

Niall huffs and rolls his eyes in response, but he can’t keep a straight face when Zayn start chuckling next to him.

Then, they tiny group moves to another room. And that’s where Niall notices that something is wrong. From his earlier visit with Theo, Niall can’t recall being in a small room, barely lit up with candles and some kind of a white, phantom light, full of old drawings and fragments of folk tales. The drawings are disturbing. And so are the stories about people disappearing in weird circumstances, about evil ghosts luring them to the bogs or murderous faeries. Niall shivers. Somehow he can’t tear his eyes away from the blurry drawing of Pooka, an ominous shapeshifting faery, most often portrayed as a black horse with horrible, glowing eyes. It is at this moment when Niall regrets that he has underestimated the place and thought that picking the DarkLand tour for him and Zayn was a good idea. He should have kept in mind the scary stories he has heard from his great grandmother when he was a child.

Niall always knew that he was rather chicken-hearted. He didn’t try to fight it. He accepted that he needed a pillow and turned-on lights to watch a horror movie. Or a turned-off TV. Now that he thinks about it, he should’ve thought this better. The only thing that makes him get a grip on himself is the sight of Zayn. Because Zayn seems to have the time of his life. He walks from one drawing to another with excitement shining in his eyes, listening to every word the guide says. Niall sighs quietly, trying to run away from Pooka’s eyes that seem to follow him around the room and hopes that he won’t have a heart attack by the end of the toor. Every now and then Zayn turns to look at him, sending him a smile that seems to brighten the room slightly and it helps. A bit.

The next room they enter—to Niall’s great relief—is slightly brighter and less gooseflesh-inducing. And more familiar, since this is the room with giant furniture that is supposed to make one feel like a leprechaun. Remembering how hard it was to climb on them when he was here with Theo, Niall abandons the idea of trying. Zayn doesn’t.

“Oo, I want to sit by the table,” he says and goes for it not even waiting for Niall’s response.

It takes him a while to clumsily climb up there and it is a rather hilarious sight, but Niall feels completely smitten, snapping photos—only so he can send them to Zayn later so he has a souvenir. When Zayn is finally seated after having sated his curiosity of what’s on the table, he notices Niall’s camera pointed at him and grins sending him a thumbs up. Niall blushes slightly at the fact that he has been caught and then pockets his phone since the tour guide picks up her story.

There are a few more rooms with poor lightening and lurid music and voices in the background. There are also more stories that would give Niall nightmares if he wasn’t an adult, fearless man. Once or twice he curses under his breath. Especially when they reach the last room when a woman dressed all in white tells them the legend about Banshee. Standing in front of him, Zayn only shoots him a quick look over his shoulder, a hint of smile dancing in the corner of his lips. He leans backward to give Niall a friendly nudge. But instead, he stays like this, his shoulder pressed against Niall’s chest. It’s distracting. Niall would want to say that it was distracting enough to stop the little yelp that escapes his mouth when the Banshee lets out a blood-curdling scream and runs away. But it wasn’t.

“Man, it was great!” Zayn says excitedly as soon as they leave the museum.

“Yeah—Yeah, it was,” Niall admits, although he doesn’t share the excitement. The Banshee scream is still ringing in his ears and he still wonders whether it was the girl or just a recording.

Zayn nudges his shoulder as they start walking, not really sure where. “You were very brave.”

“Oh piss off,” Niall nudges him back. He’s not even trying to pretend that his pride has been wounded. “Can’t do anything about the fact that I’m not a fan of horrors.”

“Why did you want to go, then?” Zayn laughs.

Scratching at his neck, Niall thinks about what to answer to that. Since he doesn’t see the point in lying, he says.

“Well, I saw how into the idea you were. Besides, I was there a few years ago with my nephew on the daytime tour and it was fun. So I thought ‘come on, this evening DarkLand tour for adults only can’t be _that_ different!’. Now I think I shouldn’t have underestimated them.”

Zayn throws his head back with laughter, his exposed neck attracts Niall’s eyes like a magnet. He kinda misses the red light of inappropriateness, blinking in his head. Maybe with it, it would be easier to stop staring.

They walk around the city for a bit more, talking about nothing in particular. Niall finds himself taking a wrong turn every now and then, circling around Zayn's hotel. He really doesn't want this evening to end. Not yet. And if Zayn notices that little intrigue, he doesn't comment on it.

"Damn, it's a pity I'm flying home on Monday," Zayn sighs when they finally reach the right street, the hotel already in sight.

"You don't want to?" Niall asks, although he agrees wholeheartedly with Zayn's words.

Instead of answering, Zayn just shrugs sending a quick glance Niall's way. A few more minutes passes before he speaks again.

"You don't have any plans of visiting London soon, do you?" Zayn asks, matter-of-factly.

Furrowing his brows at the question, Niall chuckles and says, "I'm not sure. But I'm afraid I don't. Why?"

They are still a few meters from the hotel but Zayn stops. He gives the building and the street around them a lingering look, before his eyes finally stop at Niall.

"Because if you did, then I'd have the chance to ask you out for a date and show you some nice places in _my_ city."

Zayn is smiling. But even in the relative darkness of the evening, disrupted only by the colourful streetlights, it is clear that there is a nervous hint in that smile and in a way Zayn is biting at his lower lip. 

And Niall doesn't want him to be nervous. For some reason however, despite all his previous hopes and worries, he is nervous as well. There's no blinking red lights in his head, no thoughts about appropriateness, it's just Zayn telling him exactly what Niall wanted to hear. And yet, Niall finds himself unable to speak.

"A date?" he manages eventually.

From the very moment those words leave his mouth, Niall knows it is the worst thing he could say. Because in response to that, he sees how Zayn's face falls, how he stares down at the pavement instead of at Niall.

"I just—I thought you—I'm sorry—" Zayn tries.

Since he's not looking at Niall, he can't see that Niall starts shaking his head rather frantically when he talks. Trying to get a grip on himself, Niall shakes his head in hope it would help his brain to start working again.

"No, you're right. I'd love to. Go on a date with you, that is," Niall says, smiling when he sees that Zayn's hopeful eyes are back on him. "If I knew—I'd specify that tonight could be a date if you were up for it, but I wasn't sure and I didn't want to make it weird."

And just like that, Zayn lets out a small, happy little laugh and he smiles so bright with his tongue pressed against his teeth, that his eyes are barely visible. Niall just stares at him, astonished. Even if his wildest dreams he wouldn't have thought that this week could end this way.

"So," Niall says slowly after a moment. "What would happen now? Imagining we were in London, where would you take me?"

"I would…" Zayn pretends that he's thinking about it. "Take you out for a drink, probably? And see how the night would develop?"

"So," Niall says again. He raises his hand to straighten the collar of Zayn's jacket that has turned upside down. In the process his thumb gently caresses the soft, warm skin on Zayn's neck, sending a tingle through his body. "If we ignore for a moment the fact that, sadly, we are not in London right now…"

"Niall," Zayn starts, his voice soft. "Would you like to go for a drink with me?"

"I'd love to, Zayn."


End file.
